Inheritance
7.
So now it's like the middle of the night, and Master is waking me up already. It's not as nice as when Mom used to get me up before dawn – she used to kiss me and stuff, even though I was too old – but it's still nice, not like Watto finding me asleep behind the shop counter. He used to fly off the handle and try to hit me, 'cept I was mostly way too fast for him. Master Obi-Wan hasn't hit me even once yet. So maybe I'm being really exceptionally good. Or I guess maybe Jedi just don't do stuff like that. That's prob'ly what it is. Jedi don't use violence.
But they do kill people. Bad people, I mean.
"Anakin, for stars' sake, your tunics are filthy. Put on your spare set and meet me in three minutes."
"Um… the other ones are kinda dirty too. Are we going somewhere fancy?"
Master puts a hand in his hair and runs it backward, making the top of it stick up completely straight like a krayt lizard's fringe when it's mad. But he doesn't feel mad. Just sorta frustrated. He tosses the not-quite-so-dirty clothes at me and stuffs the really dirty ones into the laundry chute.
"Sorry," I mutter. He makes me feel squishy on the inside when he gets that expression. It's like a mixture of Mom being disappointed and something way, way worse, like yesterday when he came home after the Council meeting and he actually threw his cloak. "Sorry," I say again.
The thing is, we never washed our clothes back home. Sometimes we could sprinkle some deodorizing powder on them or something, or if a new owner bought you then maybe you got some new pieces to wear, but it's not something I think about. And then the laundry chute is kinda weird. I mean, how do they keep track of whose clothes are whose? Especially 'cause pretty much everyone here wears the same thing. On Tatooine, if you owned something, it stayed on your body. Leaving your stuff lying around was like asking for a thief to come 'round. And we definitely did not have laundry chute things or droids to do all the cleaning.
Master sighs very softly and jerks his head toward the common room. "The discussion can wait," he says, and I can tell he means it. Clothes aren't that important. "We aren't going anywhere fancy, at least by Coreworld standards."
"We're leaving planet?" I ask. Yippeeee! A trip! "Where're we going, master? Naboo?"
Ooops. Wrong thing to say. "Outer Gola," he answers, all tight and short. No more questions – I have to get dressed and pack a few things … you know, something to pass the time. Space travel is really boring and if I fidget or anything then Master will make me meditate and there is no way I can do that when we are on our way to somewhere new. I 'm gonna be the first person to see every single star system, so this Gola place is just getting added to my list.
And, for the record, I am out the door and ready to go in less than three minutes. Master's eyebrows go up like he's impressed and I give him a great big smile. I can do some of this Jedi stuff right, after all. Then he's dropping my cloak over my shoulders. It's dark brown and a tiny bit too long but Master says I'll grow into it soon and I can't go running down the Temple corridors like an uncouth savage if I'm in danger of tripping over the hem.
What's wrong with running? It gets you where you're going faster.
"Do I have to wear it?" I ask. I mean, couldn't I just stuff it in my bag in case it gets cold? I feel silly with this big heavy thing hanging down off me all over the place, and the hood is like a zillion times too big and all. And my hands get lost in the sleeves.
"A cloak covers a multitude of sins," Obi-Wan says, with his voice all flat that way he always does. He shoves his hands into opposite sleeves and bam! He pretty much looks like the perfect Jedi, all stern and wise and kind of scary like he might kill some bad people any second now. I mean, Master did do that, to that assassin on Naboo, so it's not like he's pretending, and that makes him kinda scary if you think about it too much. Not that I'm scared. And anyway, his eyes are twinkling too much to be really scary.
Hey. I think he's joking, at least a little bit.
"So what sins are you covering?" I ask.
Look! I got a real smile, not just a little hint, but an actual grin. And for a second he looks really mischievous, like a little kid like me. "I would not dare tarnish your innocence by relating the tales," he says, and his voice is still flat, but the Force – I can feel it dancing all around us, like glowbugs in summer, all flittery and bright. It feels good. I think Master Obi-Wan and me could actually be good friends if I could just figure out his sense of humor and if he would be a bit more like Mom sometimes and maybe if I remembered to put my clothes in the laundry chute every once in a while.
"We mustn't keep Master Windu waiting," he says, and that good feeling goes away, and my stomach kinda drops into my legs. Master Windu really is scary. He's prob'ly killed a zillion bad people, some of them just by looking at them. I'm gonna be like him someday, actually. When I'm a Jedi Knight. But that doesn't mean I want to talk to him.
"Master Windu?" Boshuda. "Are we going to talk to the Council?"
"No." Now we're in the hallway, and going along pretty fast toward the lifts. There's no turning back, and I have to jog to keep up. So much for not running in the corridors. "We are accompanying him on a journey to Outer Gola."
Poodoo!
"Anakin."
It's not like I said it aloud. Master doesn't approve of vulgarity. He says it's unbecoming. I'm trying to remember all the words and phrases that aren't allowed for Jedi. Mostly it's the really good juicy ones that help you say what you think about stupid bugsquat and stuff. I guess Jedi have to be polite all the time, even when they're killing bad people. I wonder if Master ever cussed his head off when something bad happened – but it's sort of hard to imagine, so prob'ly not.
And I'm still kinda glowing 'cause we could, just maybe, be really good friends, so I say "Sorry," and keep trotting along, even though I don't want to go anywhere with Master Windu.
Maybe they'll let me pilot the air speeder on the way to the spaceport. That would be totally rugged.
